Molly and Ashleigh

Ashleigh smiled around the cock of the boy thrusting in and out of her mouth, sucking at it a bit harder. She was lying on her back in the middle of a group of men, some who she knew, some who she didn't. Her best friend had just turned twenty one and of course threw a party, complete with alcohol, illicit drugs, and an endless supply of sex.

Ashleigh had a cock in each of her hands, and she stroked and pumped them to the best of her ability, spreading their pre-cum over the lengths of the shafts. The greedy boys were reaching for her tits, squeezing the mounds of flesh in their hands, pinching and twisting her nipples until they were dark with abuse. Her legs were spread open and she had a dick shoved in each of her holes, two boys pounding at her dripping slit and her gaping asshole. She didn't know how many other boys stood off in the shadows, stroking themselves, waiting for their turn. There were other girls at the party, other whores they could have banged, other mouths to fuck. But Ashleigh was the best of them. And they knew it.

The boy who was pounding her pussy began to increase his pace, driving into her as hard as he could, and she arched her back at the feeling. "Yeah, fuck that sweet cunt, spray your jizz deep inside of her!" The voice came from somewhere to her right. Above her, the guy that was fucking her mouth began to moan loudly, grabbing her face with his hands and thrusting in and out of her mouth frantically. "Yeah, you like that, bitch?" she heard him say. "You like it when I fuck your face like this?" She moaned enthusiastically, sending vibrations up his dick, bringing the boy closer and closer to release. A mess of saliva and pre-cum dribbled out the sides of her lips, down her cheeks and her chin. He was going to cum soon. She wanted him to cum on her tongue, wanted him to shoot his sweet sperm straight down her throat. She swirled the tip of her tongue around his head, sucking as hard as she could, until there was no more air left in her mouth.

There were moans on either side of her, and she felt something wet and sticky land on her chest, followed by rough hands spreading the cum across her tits. She took her hand off of the spent cock and latched onto her aching clit, rubbing the hood, bringing herself to the edge. The cocks in her ass and her pussy began to spasm, and then several pulses of hot liquid shot into both of her holes. The boy in her mouth was bucking against her face, and she arched her back, pressing on her clit as hard as she could, and then she came, seconds before him, a hot jet of sticky cum shooting into her mouth, sliding down her throat, dripping out the sides of the mouth that was still wrapped around his pulsating cock. She moaned loudly, riding the waves of her own orgasm as they shot through her. The boy pulled slowly out of her mouth, allowing her to lick the last drops of cum off the tip of his dick, before he stepped away, spent.

Ashleigh smiled and licked her lips seductively, lapping up the last remnants of the boy's cum. Then she looked around suggestively.

"Who's next?"

Molly was sitting on the sofa in the living room, zoning out to the television. Her stepdaughter Ashleigh had stayed out late again. Molly tried to police the girl's actions, to establish some kind of order in the house, but Ashleigh had grown ever more rebellious since her father left.

Molly's first marriage had ended in a flurry of accusations and tears, and in her growing need for companionship and someone to take away the pain, she began serial dating. It was during this time that she met David. He was sweet, caring, and sensitive, and understood the pain that her ex-husband had left her with; it was the same pain his own ex-wife had inflicted upon him. They clung to each other out of desperation, inseparable from the beginning. David's visits to her house soon became nights slept over, and within weeks he had practically moved in. Six months later they were married.

David had a daughter from his own previous marriage; Ashleigh was nineteen when they met, and she was not happy to have Molly around. She was already rather edgy at the time, strutting around town with other loose cannons on the fringes of society, getting drunk and high in strangers' basements. Molly suspected now that she had done it for the attention; the divorce of her parents had driven her close to the edge. And Molly's presence had not helped the situation. David would bring her to Molly's house when he could, preferring she stay there rather than pass out in the bed of someone he didn't know. Ashleigh resisted as much as she could; her dislike of Molly was visible, and Molly, having no experience with wayward daughters, loathed the girl with an equal fervor.

David's attempts to care for his daughter were poor, as much as he felt he should be doing so; and Molly, caring nothing for the girl, ignored Ashleigh's behaviour, reasoning that it was her choice to ruin her life. Besides, she and David were both wrapped up in their own heartache and the love they thought they felt for each other, and did not pay much attention to Ashleigh's spiraling out of control anyway; and she was pushed over the edge without either of them noticing. That is, until their own marriage started falling apart. The two were never compatible, not even from the start, their only connection being a comparable need to nurse the wounds of their previous marriages and to not be alone. But two years later, they both fell into disillusionment, each exaggerating the other's flaws and fighting at every chance they could. Coupled with the stress of Ashleigh's defiant activities, their flimsy marriage was pushed past the breaking point. Eventually David decided he could take no more, of either Molly or his own wayward daughter, who he had no idea how to control, and he left the both of them for a pretty blonde with blue eyes and voluptuous tits, and no children to speak of.

Ashleigh was left alone with her stepmother.

To say their relationship was strained would be a gross understatement. The twenty year old refused to listen to Molly, always taunting her with claims of, "You're not even my real mother!" She left the house at all times of the day and night and returned – or didn't – whenever she so pleased. She had barely made it through community college the previous year, and had given up and dropped out once her father left. She resented Molly for being the reason her father left her, and treated the woman a little better than she would a pile of shit.

Molly, herself, was no better. She never much liked the little brat, especially since Ashleigh had been trying to get rid of her since she met David. She could not believe it when he left and didn't take her with him – having to live alone with the girl just added insult to injury.

She heard the lock click on the front door and jumped up, striding furiously into the foyer. Her stepdaughter stumbled over the threshold, swaying slightly and reeking of alcohol and sweat and something else foul. She slammed the door behind her, falling back onto it and raising her head. Her dirty blonde hair hung lank and unruly about her face; red lipstick was smeared across one of her cheeks, and remnants of black makeup faded into dark circles around her eyes. Molly stood in front of her, arms crossed over her chest, scowling at the pathetic excuse for a girl. Ashleigh scoffed, snarled, "The fuck are you looking at?" and began making her way clumsily up the stairs.

"Go to hell," was Ashleigh's slurred reply. She reached the landing and turned left down the hallway.

Molly took three deep breaths, trying to calm herself down, and followed her stepdaughter up the stairs. The door to the bathroom was ajar, and she could hear retching noises coming from inside. She peeked in the doorway as she walked past and saw Ashleigh with her head resting on the toilet bowl, eyes half open. Molly shook her head in disgust, closed the door, and retreated to her room.

The next evening found Molly sitting upstairs on Ashleigh's bed, this time with a belt in her hands.

Ashleigh had gone out again. She didn't bother to sneak, even though Molly told her that morning she was expressly forbidden to leave the house. She just strolled right out the front door like the little bitch that she was. After last night, Molly decided that she was sick and tired of dealing with her behaviour, and that Ashleigh was going to have to be disciplined.

The front door opened, but Molly didn't move, instead waiting for Ashleigh to make her way upstairs to her room. After a few minutes the door opened and Ashleigh fell across the threshold. When she saw Molly sitting on her bed her eyes narrowed, but then they widened considerably once she saw what Molly held in her hands.

"Where the hell have you been?" Molly said in a measured voice.

Ashleigh didn't respond; she was too busy eyeing the belt in Molly's hands.

"Where. Have. You. Been?" Molly's voice was low and dangerous. Ashleigh shifted on her feet, brought her bottom lip between her teeth.

"Out," she managed to say.

"Out where?"

Suddenly the fire came back into the girl's eyes. "It's none of your fucking business!" she spat.

That's it, Molly thought. Something snapped inside of her. She jumped up from the bed and started towards Ashleigh, who fell back against the door, eyes wide with disbelief. Molly grabbed her by the arm and began dragging her across the room. "Hey, what the hell are you doing?! Let go of me!" But Molly refused to relinquish her vice-like grip, pulling the girl to the bed and throwing her down face first on the mattress.

"Some balls you got there, huh?" She said, climbing on top of the girl and doing her best to pin her down. "I'm fucking sick of you and your disobedience." Ashleigh was putting up a fight beneath her, but Molly sat on top of her back, effectively stopping her movements. She reached down for the edge of the girl's miniskirt and pulled it up, revealing her bare ass.

"Not wearing any panties, huh? You've been out whoring around, haven't you." Molly wasn't asking; she knew what her slut stepdaughter was up to. She reached for the belt and folded it in half, raising it up high.

"You're going to listen to me whether you like it or not."

And with that, she brought the belt down hard on the girl's right ass cheek. A loud smack! resounded throughout the room. Ashleigh yelped and jumped beneath her, squirming to get away, but Molly wasn't letting up. She raised her hand and brought the belt down hard, this time on her left cheek. Again and again, Molly brought the leather down on Ashleigh, who continued to cry out in pain beneath her.

By the time she was finished, Ashleigh's skin was smarting; thick, fat red welts covered her flesh as the blood rose to the agitated skin. She was trembling underneath her stepmother, the only noises she made pitiful whimpers emanating from her throat. Molly was breathing heavily. She was staring down at Ashleigh's abused bottom, and she felt something stirring between her legs. She wanted to touch it. Tentatively she reached down, placing her palms flush against the girl's ass. She squeezed her flesh, rubbing her hands over the reddened mounds, as if to soothe the pain away. Suddenly she noticed the wetness in her panties, and she felt a heat rise to her face. She hadn't been aroused by the act of spanking her stepdaughter... had she?

Without a word she climbed off of the bed and made her way to the door, leaving Ashleigh alone and whimpering in her room.

She was still wet, and every time she pictured the red swellings on Ashleigh's ass she felt another jolt of arousal shoot through her pussy. In the dark hallway she closed her eyes and allowed herself to relive what she had just done; the sound of leather hitting flesh, the yelps and whimpers of the trembling girl beneath her, the red flush that had spread over every surface of her plump, juicy ass... Molly moaned, a low groan escaping from her throat. She was clutching the wall for support – her cunt was on fire. That's it, I can't take it anymore, I need to cum...

Molly pushed herself up off of the wall and all but ran to her room, closing the door behind her and sinking down onto the floor. Before she even touched the ground her hand was already shoved deep inside her pants, probing into her wet slit and rubbing vigorously at her clit. She's a filthy little slut, and she deserves to be spanked... An endless string of moans escaped her throat. Her eyes were closed, but she could see her fantasy clearly: her hands running over Ashleigh's smooth, soft flesh, kneading and groping at her pretty white mounds; and then Molly raised her hand up high, and brought it down, hard, on Ashleigh's cheek, and the girl squirmed beneath her, crying, Please, Mommy, stop! It hurts...! but she kept going, smack!, spanking her naughty little girl, because the filthy slut needed to be punished; smack!, and her skin was red and agitated, and Molly leaned down and stuck out her tongue and ran it over the bruised flesh, soothing the pain with her soft, wet tongue...

"Oh god, fuck yes!"

Her orgasm rocked her body; she pumped her fingers in and out of her dripping cunt, the palm of her hand grinding against her clit, waves of pleasure spreading outwards from her clenching pussy. She bucked against her hand, shuddering from the intensity, falling against the door as her climax crested and began to fade away.

Her head rested upon her shoulder, and her chest rose and fell with every shaky breath she took. She thought for a moment about the image that had brought her to orgasm, of her tongue running against Ashleigh's rosy flesh...

Another twinge of arousal caused her clit to throb. Ashleigh could do with a few more punishments...

Ashleigh did not leave her room the next day. Molly woke up early and cooked breakfast, did some laundry, and cleaned up around the house; not once did she see her stepdaughter flouncing around as if she owned the place. It seemed as though Molly had scared her up enough the night before, and the girl had stayed confined to her room out of fear of what she might do next. That didn't stop Molly from fantasizing about her, however. It didn't stop her from imagining the feel of her hands on Ashleigh's smooth bottom, the way her flesh bounced as Molly smacked her again and again, the blood-red flush on her pretty white skin...

Her panties were soaking wet. They had been all day long; she couldn't go more than a few minutes without feeling another twinge of her pussy, her juices dripping out of her. It was starting to get dark outside, and Molly thought she had waited long enough. With a look of determination on her face, she made her way to her stepdaughter's room.

She pushed the door open and immediately her breath caught in her throat; Ashleigh was lying face down on the bed, in nothing but a small tank top and pink panties, her sweet mounds rising up from the mattress. She was doing something on her phone, but when the door opened she looked up, and her eyes widened with fear at the sight of Molly, who stepped into the room.

"Hello, Ashleigh."

The girl had moved to sit up, as if to make sure her ass was as far away from Molly's reach as possible. Unfazed, Molly continued to walk towards her, sitting on the edge of the bed, hands folded in her lap.

"Ashleigh I want to talk to you about something."

Ashleigh averted her eyes and mumbled, "What?"

Molly sighed lightly and continued. "Ashleigh, you're a filthy little whore." The girl jerked her head towards her stepmother, eyes shooting daggers at the older woman. "You disobey me, ignore me, and undermine my authority. You strut around town, whoring around and doing god knows what else. And I've had enough of you and your behaviour. So it's time you learn your lesson."

There was a fire burning in Ashleigh's eyes. "Who the fuck do you think you are? Crazy bitch! Who gave you permission to discipline me? You're not even my real mother!"

Molly had anticipated her defiance. She moved quickly across the bed, Ashleigh's eyes regaining the fear at her sudden movement. Within seconds she had her hand tangled in the girl's hair, the strands wrapped tightly around her fist, and she pulled, hard, dragging the girl off of the bed and onto the floor. She stood, looking down at Ashleigh's curled up form, hands clutching at her head, and she spat, "I will not tolerate this behaviour!" The girl was rocking slightly, whimpering in pain.

Molly sat down on the bed. "Get up." Ashleigh did not hesitate to follow her orders. She stood up on shaky legs and stumbled over to where Molly sat. Molly looked her up and down, raking her eyes over Ashleigh's form. She could see why she liked to whore herself around; she had a fit body, with full breasts that sat up high on her chest and curves that accentuated her frame. Molly's eyes lingered over the small triangle of cloth that dipped into her crotch, and could only imagine the pretty pink pussy that lay underneath it. And that ass...

"Take your panties off."

Ashleigh's eyes widened in disbelief. "What?" she asked shakily.

"Panties OFF," Molly repeated, her voice stern and dangerous. Ashleigh moved her arms slowly, grasping at the edges of her briefs, sliding them down her thighs. Molly, growing impatient, grabbed the girl roughly and pulled her closer, yanking the cotton down past her knees and throwing her over her lap.

"I don't have time for this," she growled, and, ignoring Ashleigh's pleas to stop, raised her hand and brought it down roughly on Ashleigh's flesh.

Smack!

The girl cried out beneath her, and the sound rang in Molly's ears, sending a jolt of pleasure down to her groin. A quite visible red handprint began to surface on Ashleigh's cheek; Molly ran the palm of her hand over the marking, soothing the agitated skin. She lifted her hand and brought it down again, this time on the same spot, the blood rising furiously to the surface, Ashleigh shrieking beneath her. Again and again she spanked the girl, rubbing her palm over the skin after each hit.

"You've been a naughty little girl, haven't you?" Molly said. "You've been a filthy little whore... letting those boys shove their cocks into you... sucking them hard until they cum all down your throat... what would your Daddy say, if he knew what you were doing?" She was taunting the girl, punctuating her sentences with more strikes of her palm.

Somewhere in all of this, Ashleigh's cries had stopped seeming so painful, and a twinge of pleasure seemed to color the sounds escaping her throat... Molly's pussy was dripping wet, and she wondered if Ashleigh's was as well. She rubbed her palm against the girl's skin, moving her hand lower and lower until she began to approach the heat between the girl's legs. She stuck out two fingers and ran them over the girl's slit, her fingers becoming coated with Ashleigh's juices.

"You like this, don't you, you filthy slut?" Molly asked, rubbing her fingers against Ashleigh's wet pussy. The girl was grinding slowly against her, soft moans escaping her throat. When she did not respond, Molly took her fingers off the girl's pussy, bringing her palm down hard against her cheek.

"Answer me!"

"Yes," was Ashleigh's answer, the word escaping her throat in the midst of a breathy moan. Molly put her fingers on the girl's clit, pressing down hard. Ashleigh squirmed beneath her.

"Let's get one thing straight," Molly said, running her other hand up and down Ashleigh's back, and over her two mounds of flesh. "Your father left you. He left you with me. You are living in my house, and from now on, under my rules. For all intents and purposes, I am your mother. You will refer to me as such. Until I think you have learned your lesson, you will refer to me as 'Mommy' and do as I say. Do you understand me?"